An unexpected visitor
by RovKie
Summary: Ever wondered why Hermione's parents agreed to her going off to an unknown place where they couldn't come, to study magic of all things? Why did they decide that Hogwarts was the place they should send their only daughter?


**I don't own the HP universe, nor do I make any money of it. And my name isn't J.K. Rowling.**

**I am aware that in the books, Hermione's birthday is in September, but for this story I'm tweaking it a bit so that her birthday is somewhere in the beginning of the summer.**

**I might later update this story to include parts of Hermione shopping for the first time for supplies in Diagon alley, and maybe a scene of Hermione saying goodbye to her parents, up to where she meets Harry and Ron on the train. Let me know if you want to read more.**

* * *

Dan and Emma Granger were sitting in the sofa, watching a documentary on paranormal activity. Their eleven year old daughter Hermione was sitting at their feet, reading a book, occasionally looking up at the television set and smiling. A few hours before they had celebrated Hermione's birthday, sitting all together round the kitchen table, eating a sweet cake. This had been an extraordinary event for little Hermione, because she normally didn't get to eat anything sweet, let alone a cake made of the sweetest substances on earth – or so it had seemed at least to the small girl. You see, Emma and Dan were both dentists, and slightly maniacally obsessed with keeping Hermione's teeth pristine – which meant that sweets were a forbidden fruit in the Granger's home – except for today, as it was an important day for Hermione. And it was to become an even more important day than any of them could have imagined, sitting cosily in front of the TV.

Small Hermione wasn't one to look much at TV, she preferred books instead. Also now, she was engaged in her favourite activity, with her nose in a book, although she found it more and more difficult to focus on the pages in front of her. The documentary on the BBC was just too interesting. "_And vaguely familiar too_", she thought.

Oddly enough, the same thought was also playing in both her parents' minds. The Grangers were very down to earth people, and normally wouldn't have cared for something as weird as paranormal activity. But they had stumbled upon an advertisement for it earlier on the day, and somehow it reminded them of some weird things that had happened in the Granger's house recently. Not that they believed in such things, but their interest was drawn. And so they had found themselves in the seat, fascinated by the program, with a daughter that for some reason had decided to put her book down to look at the program. That had to be a first.

In the documentary, they were now showing images of a small child – no older than Hermione – playing in a room with some toys. The boy on TV was racing with tiny toy cars, in each hand one. A third one was standing behind him, as he couldn't carry more in his small hands. They realised that the documentary was now showing amateur images made by the boy's parents. They could hear the father asking something from behind the camera. "What are you doing, Christian?"

"Racing cars!" was the joyful answer of the child. The father chuckled at the enthusiastic response, and then spoke again. "And which one will win, the red car or the blue car?"

"The green one!" was the even more enthusiastic reply.

"The green one, but it is way back there? How can it win? Will you go and get it?"

"No! It will win, you will see!"

As the boy approached the finish that he had drawn with chalk on the floor, suddenly the green car shuddered from behind his back, and flew forward, passing the finish line before they child could push the blue or red car past it. Then the green car bounced off the wall and lay still again. You could see the image trembling as the father's voice could be heard in the background. "What... what just happened? Lindsey, did you see that?! It couldn't have been Christian, no? But he seemed to know!" Then the image went black and the reporter started analysing what had happened there.

It seemed so oddly familiar to all of the Granger family. It wasn't that this particular situation had happened to them, but they sure had had their share of weird, slightly disturbing events. And recently, it had become more the case than ever. Hermione was now staring at the television with wide open eyes. She had seen more of these things happening around her then her parents had seen. Maybe this documentary could explain some of it!

She wouldn't get the chance to find out more about the documentary though, as suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. "Weird", Hermione thought, "the bell is clearly visible, and still they knock on the door?" Emma and Dan looked at each other, wondering who could be there this late in the evening. Dan reluctantly got up from his cosy position next to his wife, and cursed under his breath that he would be missing the rest of the documentary. "It better won't be a salesman..." he told himself while walking to the door. "At the other side, I can ship off a salesman within a minute. It better won't be anyone we know... I want to see the rest of that documentary!"

He opened the door, and took a step back at the sight before him, blinking rapidly trying to take in the curious woman standing before him. She definitely was not a salesman, that much was sure. Dan had forgotten instantly about the documentary.

As he looked the stern looking woman in the funny clothes up and down, Dan realised that he was staring and being impolite. "Err, sorry Madame, can I help you?"

As the lips of the woman seemed to become a bit thinner and Dan thought he noticed a fleeing bitter expression on her face, she answered. "It's Miss actually, but that doesn't matter, really. Many people make that mistake, given my age." Her gaze seemed to drift off for just a split second, before her eyes fixated Dan again. "My name is McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. I would like to have a word with you and your wife about little Hermione if that would be possible. I apologise for the lateness of my appearance, but I had a busy day visiting other future students."

At the word 'Deputy Headmistress', Dan started wondering if he had heard her name before. She had to be from Hermione's school. Maybe she was here to talk about the occasional bullying that his daughter received from the more popular girls. Then his mind registered the rest of her introduction. "_Future students?_" It was true that Hermione was about the pass to secondary school after the summer, but it was a bit weird for delegates of possible schools to just invite themselves at his home unannounced, and certainly at this hour! He was about to tell the woman off, and to announce that it was better that she would sent some information by post, or schedule an appointment for somewhere later, if she insisted to see them in person, but now they were all busy with... err... Well, doing _something_, no? Dan suddenly felt quite a bit confused as he couldn't remember what it had been that had been so interesting just a mere minute ago. He looked up at the woman, and a small smile now played around her lips, barely noticeable. "Can I come in, Mr Granger?"

"Err, yeah... I guess so." As he moved slowly aside, he said the magic word. "Please come in."

Emma and Hermione had followed the conversation from the seat, still having an eye on the TV, but not missing the strange behaviour displayed by Dan. When a woman finally entered, both their heads snapped towards the entrance to regard this highly unusual appearance, the documentary all but forgotten. The woman was a formidable appearance indeed, with a pointed black hat and green ornate robes under a brown travelling cloak.

"Honey, this is Deputy Headmistress ... I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?"

"That is no problem, Sir. My name is Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, and I would like to have a chat with you concerning the future of this bright little lady here." As McGonagall pointed her arms to Hermione, Emma's first gesture was to put her arms around Hermione, as to shield her from this bizarre character. Dan gestured to the dining table, and the mysterious woman sat down gently. She had a very stern aura, but her clothes were so funny that Hermione couldn't help but smile a bit. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall noticed this and returned what appeared to be a small smile. Hermione felt oddly at ease with this woman, although she was very strange. But they seemed to have something in common, although she couldn't pinpoint what exactly that could be.

Dan and Emma sat down at the table, opposite McGonagall, while Hermione was standing next to her mother, still having her arm around her daughter's side. "To what do we owe this late visit, Miss McGonagall?" Dan's thoughts were slowly becoming coherent again.

McGonagall took her cue and started her speech. "Firstly, I would like to apologise to you, Mr Granger. I had to confund – err, confuse – you a bit, because I was afraid that you wouldn't let me in with my usual introduction and at this hour of the day. You will notice that the fog in your mind is slowly going away, and in a minute or so, it won't be there anymore. I would like to add that it was harmless." As Dan and Emma's mouth fell open in amazement and a look of protest started to form on their face, McGonagall was quickly to continue her speech.

"I'm sorry I did so, but it was of the utmost importance that I speak to you about your daughter. I have very important news for her, and it will have a tremendous impact on her – and your, if I might add – life."

Dan had a questioning look on his face, and although Emma still looked as if she wanted to protest, she kept quiet for now. This was the signal for McGonagall to start explaining.

"I noticed that you were looking at a documentary on paranormal activities on the television." She gestured to the TV that was still playing in the background. "Do you believe in this?" As there was no reply, she went on. "I would like to ask you, if you have ever seen strange things happen around the house? Especially when Hermione is here, and probably more so the last couple of years compared to when she was still a toddler."

Emma and Dan were still dumbstruck, but Hermione was gravely nodding her head up and down, earning another smile from the stern woman and a reprimanding look from her mother.

"Let me explain myself," McGonagall turned very serious now. "There is no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to barge in and say it as it is. Mr and Mme Granger, your daughter is a witch."

Silence was everywhere. You could hear a pin drop if it hadn't been for the television still playing softly in the background. The silence seemed to stretch forever. And then it happened. A laugh. Dan chuckled, then started to laugh genuinely, and finally cracked up with laughter.

"Ok, so where is the hidden camera? You've got to be kidding me, aren't you? No sane person would be able to pull this off, so either you are a very good actress and this is a candid camera program, or you should be locked up in an institution for mentally unstable people."

"Mr Granger," McGonagall looked slightly offended, but sighed and settled in her fate. "_This was going to be another one of those conversations..._" she thought. "I can guarantee you, Mr Granger, that I am not kidding at all. I am very serious!" Hermione thought this to be the funniest thing she had ever heard, coming from the mouth of a woman that indeed looked stern, but was wearing the most ridiculous clothes, but Hermione kept wisely still.

"I am a witch myself too, I will prove this to you. And I can prove that your daughter also possesses magical abilities." At this, McGonagall took out of her sleeve an ornate piece of wood, and pointed it towards the sofa. A swish of the arm and she spoke the words "Wingardium Leviosa". The Grangers looked astonished as the couch lifted up and hovered about one yard in the air. As McGonagall lowered her hands, still clenching the wooden stick, the sofa slowly drifted down to its usual place.

Satisfied, McGonagall noticed that she had the Granger's undivided attention. "_This never fails_", was the first thought that drifted through her mind. "This piece of wood is a wand, and it helps me to amplify my magical power. But some particularly strong wizards and witches can learn how to perform magic without it. Hermione will need one too, when she starts in Hogwarts – the finest wizarding school in Great-Britain and abroad."

But Dan Granger was not easily to be convinced. "Hold on, even if this little trick you just did proves to be _real_ magic, nothing proves that Hermione is like you. Because we – he looked his wife in the eyes – are definitely not magical." At this Emma nodded her head firmly to confirm her husband's thoughts.

McGonagall didn't say anything, but held out her wand for Hermione to take it. "Don't expect anything as dramatic as what you have just witnessed, but I hope that this can prove to you that your daughter has magical power." As Hermione hesitantly took the wand, McGonagall patted her hand. "Just give it a flick dear, and try to think of an object that you like. Focus real hard on it in your mind. Don't worry, nothing bad will happen."

Hermione took the wand, and before her parents could say anything, she had closed her eyes and focussed real hard on her most favourite thing in the world. She moved her hand with a quick flick of the wrist and heard her parents inhale deeply. As Hermione quickly opened her eyes to see what had happened, she could clearly see the outlines of a book made out of smoke and sparks floating in the air, slowly dissipating as she was staring at it. Her parents couldn't keep their eyes away from it either, while McGonagall's eyebrows had lifted a few inches, glancing between the image of the book and Hermione.

"Remarkable," McGonagall was the first to say something. "Most children only manage to shoot some sparks or smoke in the air, yet your little girl here managed to make a fully formed image. She will be very skilled with the correct training."

When Dan still didn't look convinced, McGonagall quickly went on to explain further why she was here. "Mr Granger, I know this comes as a shock to you all, but it is better for Hermione to be trained and brought up adapted to her skills. Skills that, I might add, wouldn't be received well in the muggle world." At Dan's blank stare, McGonagall quickly corrected herself. "I'm sorry, let me explain. Muggles are what we, wizards and witches call non-magical people. There are many wizards and witches, and some could even be your neighbour. But we hide for the muggles, because history proves time and again that people are not yet ready to deal with what they do not understand, and what they cannot do out of their own accord. That is why muggles, with the notable exception of close muggle relatives to wizards and witches, are kept unaware of our community."

Mr Granger was not yet ready to give up the battle raging in him. "Okay, let's assume that what you are saying is true, can you explain a bit about that school of yours – Hogwarts, or what's its name? What is so special about it that we should send Hermione there?"

"Hogwarts is a school for magical children, whether they were born from wizards or muggles. In Hogwarts, they will be trained in their magical powers. They will learn how to control them and how to use them in a correct and safe way."

"But what else will they learn?" Mr Granger persisted.

"Well, there are classes such as arithmancy, ancient runes, divination, next to the obvious magical classes such as charms and broomstick flying."

"But nothing that will help them later in life, such as mathematics, languages, economy, and so on." Mr Granger pressed on.

"Err, not like that, no." McGonagall had to concede. "I mean, it is in there in a certain way, but it is not your standard muggle concept of these topics."

Emma now intervened. "But that doesn't prepare Hermione for later life! How would she ever be able to find a job in the real world! Something that makes sure that she can earn money, to live a normal life."

"Mme Granger, I can assure you that with our education, Hermione would have no problem to find a job in the wizarding world."

"But not in the _normal_ world, she wouldn't. I don't like this one bit, this Hogwarts."

Dan skipped in too. "Look, even if we would be interested in enrolling Hermione in this wizarding school, this is a choice that we will not make lightly. _If_ we are interested, where is this school located? Is there a possibility for us to visit it? How much time would it take us each day to drop off and pick up Hermione in Hogwarts?"

McGonagall grimaced at this question. This was the moment where Hogwarts always lost more than half of their potential muggle-born students. Ah well, there was no benefit in postponing this part. "Hogwarts is located in Scotland, in a secret and well guarded place, and unfortunately it is not possible for muggles to visit it. The anti-muggle wards are very strong, and it is impossible to make an exception for a few muggles such as yourselves. Also, due to its remote location, it is a boarding school. Students are only allowed to go home during the Christmas and summer holidays. Off course, contact between students and their parents is possible by owl post."

"It's out of the question that I'll send my little girl to a place that I cannot even visit beforehand, at the other side of the country, and without being able to see her for a whole semester!" Emma was almost screaming. Dan was also getting a bit red in the face. "Miss McGonagall, I think we have made up our minds. Hermione will get a good education in a normal school here in London, and we will deal with her magical capabilities ourselves. We will manage fine. I would also like to request that you leave our house."

McGonagall knew that it was her time to leave. This happened all too much with muggle parents of magical children. They just didn't get it. It wasn't even their fault, she blamed the fact that Hogwarts indeed didn't offer anything for the muggle parents to rely on, anything similar to the environment they knew. "Ok, I will go. I would just like to ask you to think this over. You still have the better part of two months. I understand that you are scared by the lack of 'normal' muggle courses, but it really is the best education wizards or witches can get. And please don't underestimate the impact of her magical skills. If she is not trained in how to control them, it will become dangerous, not only for you, but also for herself. But I cannot oblige you of course. I will leave here the invitation letter from Hogwarts, together with the list of books and other things she would need. Take your time to think about it, and if you would change your mind, tell Hermione to hold the letter and to focus on me. I will get the message and will come to visit you again. Goodbye Sir, Madame." And finally, with a wave to little Hermione who didn't know what to think of this whole situation, she was off, through the door that Dan had meanwhile opened for her.

Dan looked at his wife, and then both looked at Hermione, worry showing in their eyes. Then Dan turned to close the door, and he was amazed to find that McGonagall was gone. As he scratched his hair and asked his wife where that woman could have vanished to, Hermione smiled and watched a tabby cat turn a corner. "_Once, I will be able to do this too!_" she thought excitedly. Her mind was made up, but she knew that the way to convince her parents was a long and hard one.

* * *

It was one week further, and Hermione was still piped up from learning that she was able to do magic. Her mood flew from elation from this big news, to anger, because she didn't know how to do it, and there was no one to teach her, and back to exhilaration when she managed a small piece of magic (which in turn made her parents mood turn to despair when yet another magazine opened itself on its own accord).

Emma and Dan were progressive people, with an open mind, and that was also how they approached this new information about their daughter. They tried to guide her, tried to contain her, but they had no clue how to accomplish this. Even now already, with the first signs of magic manifesting, they knew that they would never be able to guide Hermione. They would never know how it feels to perform magic, never know when it could get dangerous, and how they would be able to guide their daughter on to the correct path. But in all their openness, they couldn't see yet that they were lost. They weren't ready to give in just yet.

It had started slow, with Hermione trying to replicate what McGonagall had asked her to do when she had borrowed her wand to Hermione. Just focussing didn't work, and Hermione had started to look for something to replace the wand with. Having no clue to what made a good wand, she had begun picking up random branches in the garden. It didn't bring her any closer to her goal.

One evening in her room, she had been so fed up and angry, that the picture of a book that she was imagining literally was screaming in her mind. For a second, it looked like the young girl would throw a tantrum, but then – very suddenly, but very clearly – she could hear a loud thud and a scream from her father. Hermione sped downstairs, to arrive on the scene that she immediately knew she had created. Her father was sitting in his reading chair in front of one of the bookshelves, clutching his head and rubbing it furiously. By his feet lay the book she had been imagining.

Meanwhile, Dan was complaining to his wife, who had started massaging the sore spot on his head. "Ruddy thing just fell out of the bookshelf, straight on my head!" Hermione jumped into the air, while making a 360° turn, and shouted "Yes! I did it!" Then she looked up at her father and mother, who were staring at her with bewilderment in their eyes. "Err, sorry, I didn't mean it to fall on your head." She smiled weakly at her father. It was all Hermione could offer, before she sprinted upstairs again, pumping her fist into the air.

Dan looked at his wife. "This is really happening, isn't it? No way back?" She just looked solemnly in his eyes. "It is happening indeed. We should make sure she doesn't do anything dangerous. But Dan, I don't have a clue how. We're in way over our heads..." His response was determined. "We'll find a way. We always do."

Hermione was thrilled, and in no mood to go to sleep yet, so she decided to try to repeat the exercise, only now with a fluffy teddy bear, that was lying next to her on the bed. At least she would be able to see it if... no, _when_ it moved. And since it was impossibly soft, it wouldn't hurt if it would suddenly fly in her face. That same evening, she managed to move the bear about one inch, but then she gave up, falling asleep feeling happy, satisfied and incredibly drained from the strain on her body.

The next day, Hermione decided that if she wanted to step up the level of magic she was portraying, she really needed a wand, so she resumed her search for something to guide her magic with renewed resolve. Her parents were at a loss of what to do. Should they encourage her, or forbid her to try this on her own? They had no idea.

At one of her scavenging expeditions in the garden of her house, she was moving to the front garden that held only one tree. Up till now she hadn't tried that one, as there were plenty of trees in the back garden, but since nothing had worked, it was worth a shot. She approached the beautiful holly tree, and almost immediately found a stick – no, a _wand_, she forced herself to think – that looked a good size. Not too long, mostly straight, it seemed the closest to what McGonagall had given her. She straightened herself and held it out in front of her. "_Yes, this should do it."_ When she raised her arm to give it a flick, she noticed something out of the corner of her eyes. A cat. A tabby cat that looked particularly familiar. But when she snapped her head in the direction of the cat... it was gone. Yet she was sure she had just seen the cat!

She ran over to the corner of the porch, next to the bushes where she had seen the cat. It was gone, but as Hermione bent over to check if it wasn't hiding under the bushes, she put her makeshift wand in the grass besides her. What she didn't see is that it landed on a hair of exactly that cat that she was looking for. The hair coiled around the holly branch, and burned its way into it. It gave the branch a nice intricate pattern which Hermione immediately noticed when she perched up again from looking under the bushes.

Hesitatingly, she picked up the stick, and a warm, familial feeling washed over her. It was the same feeling as she had felt with McGonagall's wand, although the sense of this wand was much less strong. "_But it was there!_" Hermione looked triumphant around, but there was no one else to see her victory. Except for that tabby cat that Hermione didn't notice behind the wheel of a parked car.

Hermione had a great idea. She focussed with all her might on her teddy bear, and gave her wand a flick. After all, what could go wrong, it was a fluffy teddy. Next thing she knew, she heard glass shatter, and her teddy ended up neatly in her hands. She looked up and saw that the glass of her bedroom window was shattered. "_But it was a soft teddy! That must have been quite some force then. Oh my, I'm in trouble..._" A second later, the front door of her house opened and her parents came running out, looking first at Hermione, then at the teddy bear, and then to the window...

The next couple of days, Hermione was still wondering why they hadn't punished her. She had clearly done something wrong, but her parents had elected not to take away her makeshift wand, nor to confine her to her room. They had just asked her to be careful and to inform them whenever she wanted to try something new, so they could supervise. But Hermione had confined herself to her room for the majority of the time, partially out of a misplaced sense of guilt, and partially because she could practise there undisturbed. She did decide to only try doing small things, as she didn't want to risk having more things going wrong. But she felt that she was making steady progress. Eventually she could make things shift one yard without too much trouble.

Every Saturday morning, it was customary in the Granger's home that they would all take a trip to the library. It was a habit that Hermione in particular looked forward to every time. So this Saturday, as any other, Hermione was bouncing in her seat at the breakfast table. Time couldn't go fast enough, there were so many books to be picked up in the library. Hermione had decided that this time, she would try to look up historical facts on wizarding and witchcraft. She hoped that maybe there would be something in there to help her further in her quest for more knowledge on her newly acquired abilities.

Dan and Emma loved to see their small girl so happy. She always loved to read, and it seemed – at least to them – that her new obsession for magic had decreased and her old obsession for books had taken over again. All in all, it seemed a lovely Saturday when they were driving in their car towards the library. Once arrived in the library, Hermione sprinted to the index filing system to look up the books she wanted to borrow, while her parents wandered off to find a nice novel to take away.

Hermione's eyes opened wide, when she scrolled through the index system. For the term 'witchcraft', she found a few books, but one grabbed her attention. 'Witchcraft through the ages: The mystery and so called spells revealed' seemed just too good to be true. It seemed that there was one copy of the book in row 25, shelf D. Hermione sprinted down the aisles and scooted up to the shelf that had been mentioned. She frantically started to look for the book, but was unsuccessful to find it. Letdown, she walked over to the librarian, who knew that pout on her face all too well.

"Didn't find a book, young Miss Granger? Which one this time?"

"Hello Howard. Could you check if somebody checked it out? It's called 'Witchcraft though the ages: The mystery and so called spells revealed'."

"Ah, diving into a new branch of literature, are we now, Miss Granger. It's the first time I see you reading something that isn't scientifically proven." At her shrug, he continued. "Let's see... No, it should be here. Row 25, shelf D. Did you check the correct shelf, my dear?"

Hermione only nodded, not managing to hide her sadness. "Yes, I checked that shelf. Twice."

"Somebody must have misplaced it then, because I'm sure it must be here. Impossible to find it back though. I tell you what, if we stumble upon it, I will reserve it for you and let you know immediately. But don't get your hopes up though. Books like that aren't popular and can go for months before we happen to put our fingers onto it."

Hermione nodded sadly. "Thanks Howard." At that, she turned her back and walked back towards the shelves. She wasn't finished yet, she had one more card to play. She found a nice and quiet little section of the library, where nobody ever came, and took her wand from her sleeve. "_This is a bad idea, Hermione_", she told herself. But she knew she was going to do it anyway.

Visualizing the title of the book in her mind, so strong she could almost grab the letters with her hands, she made an elaborate swish with her wand. Then everything happened fast.

Books tumbled from everywhere, shelves fell over and came crashing down all around her. Even two rows further, shelves were being emptied of their content. After a second, the chaos came to a halt, and Hermione found herself uncomfortably buried under a huge pile of books while people came rushing to her aid.

Hermione's parents were the first who located her. "Hermione! My god! Are you okay?" Her mother had passed the point of reason, throwing books left and right, trying to free her only daughter. Dan was of course helping as much as he could.

"My goodness, Miss Granger!" It was the voice of Howard to librarian. "I am so sorry, this has never happened before! I don't know what to say. I do hope that you are alright!"

Hermione flinched when she tried to get up and grabbed her leg when pain shot through it. The weight of the books that had fallen on her had taken its toll. To her regret she saw that her wand hadn't survived the impact, lying scattered in pieces on the floor. Not even surprised, she noticed that the book that had broken it, was the very book she had tried to summon. Her father – always the coolest of her parents – followed her gaze to the book, capturing the title and then looked straight into her eyes when she looked up. "Did you... I mean, was this... you?" he asked silently. Hermione nodded, and her parents looked at each other. It was then that they realised for the first time that really, they were way over their head in this. They couldn't cope with this level of danger for their daughter. The needed help from a professional.

That afternoon, when they came home from the obligatory visit to the hospital – "No walking on your leg for a week, Miss Granger!" – Dan walked to the drawer where he had stashed the letter of McGonagall. He gave it to Hermione, and said "Hermione, the choice is up to you. Do you want to go to a magical school, knowing that you will not see us very often, and that you will miss some basic courses that you would get in normal schools?"

Hermione's eyes misted up, but she firmly nodded her head, confirming what her parents knew already. "Yes dad, mum, I would like to become a real witch. And don't worry, I'll write often, and I can always follow the normal courses that I would miss here during summer!"

Her father smiled. "That is something that we – he nodded to his wife – _can_ help you with, normal mathematics and things like that." He looked at his daughter, feeling pride mixed with that feeling that creeps up to you like that when kids suddenly seem to have grown up. "Can you try to call that teacher, honey?"

Hermione focussed on the image of McGonagall and held the letter tight in her hands. A crack resounded through the house, and the teacher was standing in front of them all.

"My goodness, dear girl, you have been practising. You almost pulled me over here on your own accord. I didn't even have time to take my cloak with me." Then she took in Hermione's bruised leg. "I take it that you got that while trying out your magic?" Hermione nodded, and McGonagall approached quickly.

"Well, I'm not a fully trained healer, but I was good enough on the topic in my days. Keep your leg still for a second ok?" A few intricate waves and weird sentences later, Hermione's leg looked as if nothing had ever happened. Dan and Emma had to do a conscious effort not to let their mouth drop open. Finally Dan spoke up.

"We have changed our minds. If Hermione is going to perform dangerous spells – and we all know she will, she can't say no to learning new things, even though it might be dangerous – we need someone like you who can take care of them. We still don't like it that Hermione will not follow normal classes, but this is the best for her."

McGonagall smiled. "Thank you for your trust in Hogwarts, in me, and in your daughter. You will not regret it, and I hope that in time, you will see that Hogwarts is a great school, offering the best possible classes for the magically gifted. It is obvious that your daughter has a knack for magic, and we will be able to guide her how to use her magic in safe and correct way, on her pace and in a safe environment. If you want, I can also bring you into contact with muggle parents of some of our other students. It might ease the difficulty of not being able to visit Hogwarts. Now then, to complete the formalities, I would need your signature on this document with my quill."

As Dan and Emma each signed the admission papers, McGonagall looked at Hermione. Then she gave the quill to Hermione, who enthusiastically singed with her name in big letters.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger. You will have an extraordinary experience, enjoy it at the fullest."

Hermione was just beaming.

Emma and Dan nodded, satisfied that their daughter was happy. And boy, she was happy. Nobody even questioned the origin of the fireworks that were going off just outside their house. Luckily McGonagall was there to restore Hermione's room to normal after some of the fireworks had gone off _in _her room, rather than outside.


End file.
